The Present
by Spiritwolf98
Summary: What is going through Roger's head when he wakes up in the 21'st century? Oneshot.


Hello everyone! This is SpiritWolf98 here. First of all, I'd like to thank everyone for my reviews on my other story (sorry first time viewers), I am working on it, though slowly. Now, the reason I wrote this was because I just watched Captain America, The First Avenger, and I was so moved by the last scene I had to try to write it what's going on in Steven's head. Its not first person, but it shows everything that he's thinking. Its not very neat, I wrote it in one sitting (didn't revise), and since I have only seen the movie once, I'm very sorry If I messed it up. But this is what I think happened when Captain America woke up in the last scenes of The First Avenger.

Bla- Normal

_Bla_- radio

He looked around the room. The curtains fluttered in a breeze, and colors sharpened as his eyes adjusted. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was the plane, the bombs, Peggy... Then a horrible blackness. Wasn't he suppose to be dead? Isn't that what he had decided? The crackling of the radio made him sit up in the bed. A baseball game. Maybe he had survived. Maybe...

"_The Dodgers are in the lead. Its 8-4..."_

Steven watched the dull brass door handle turn, the white paint chipped door creaking open. A shoe stepped in. A women. Nothing out of ordinary.

"_They're gonna win! The dodgers are in for the win! Will they make it?"_

_"_Captain, you're up." The voice was low, but sharp. She was blinking too much. What was happening?

"_And they won! What a wonderful game it was!"_

Then it clicked what was wrong. The game. He had been to it. Seen the plays, and caught a fly ball to boot. He glanced at the lacquered radio. How was this happening?

"Where am I?" He said in a demanding voice.

The lady shifted uncomfortably, shuffling her feet.

"At a recovery room in New York" She answered with a forced smile. But then why the radio? He glanced around, taking in as much as he could. It all looked right... The smell! The room scent was nothing like that of the New York. A car honked near by.

"No, where am I really?"

Her eyes darted anywhere but his face. Why was she lying?

"What do you mean, you're-"

"The game. Its from may 1941. I know. I was there. Now where am I" He stood up, feeling his muscles work as smoothly as the day he... He didn't know what happened. But that was unimportant right now. He had to figure out why he was being tricked. Air rushed out of the women's breath as he got closer.

"Now I will ask you again. Where am I!" She stared ahead, panic in her eyes.

"Captain Roders-" She said weakly.

The creak of the doors hinges got his attention. Two men in black clothing rushed in. It was instinct, instinct that only someone who has lived through a war has. Something that happened after endless amounts of enemies rushing at you,the constant firing of guns, watching your comrades fall down beside you... He didn't even think. One man was on the ground groaning from a punch to the head, another slammed away like a rag doll. He needed to get out. Plaster shattered around him, and a metal floor rushed up to meet him. He didn't have time to get over the shock. He ran out the metal doors that lead from the fake room he had been in.

All the glass, the people in strange outfits. It barraged his senses, senses that told him something was profoundly wrong. But people chasing him was nothing new. They were enemies, that he had to escape. He ran down the hallway, shoving people aside to get away. He had to get somewhere safe, outside... The doors that lead outside were made of a strange metal, the texture felt weird in his hands as he shoved them aside. And then all he could do was stare, engulfed in hopelessness. How could he ever get back home?

But the shouting behind him made his legs move. In the back of his head, he was vaguely reminded of the first time he was out after the serum was injected. He had been running, but instead of running away, he had been chasing. Now the roles were reversed. He was the prey. He was the doe running from a wolf, separated from its herd.

The cars were sleek, small, moving too fast. So much yellow. He looked up, giant buildings rising high above what should be possible. All the reflections, so many colors. The flickering signs hurt his eyes, the neon, which was rare to see, was everywhere. Only after did he notice the light drizzle on his back, from all the umbrellas that people had. At least that hadn't changed. But even they were different, too thin, the edges shaking like leaves in the wind.

He ran on, down the street. Maybe there would be an end to this madness. The cross section almost there. He stopped, and raised his head in the middle of the two streets. Everywhere he turned were colors, glass. Colors, light. He was shaken out of it when black cars surrounded him. He turned. Would he have to fight them off? Would he surrender? He started panicking. Would he-

"At ease solider!" A deep voice said from behind him. He turned around slower this time, his eyes settling on a tall black man with a long black coat. He strode forward, towards him. Steven took a step back, backing away a little just in case.

He stared at the strange man. The first thing he registered was that he was black. He had no hair, his collar covering his neck. His eye patch covered his left eye, scars surrounding it. His remaining eye scanned Steven. A piece of gravel came loose from under his feet, rolling down the street. Was he an enemy? An ally? The panic started to rise again.

"Sorry for that little show back there, but we though it would be best to break it to you slowly," said the tall man. What did he mean? Do a show for him, for what possibly would he do that?

"For what?"

"You've been asleep Cap," The man looked sad, almost pityingly. "You've been asleep for almost 70 years"

First it just cleared up the scenario he was in. The bright lights, the advanced technology. But then it crashed down on him. Everyone... everyone... he would never see them again. Never. Peggy, Stark, Dum Dum, Jones, Mortia, Delnier, Falsworth... gone. What was his point? No, he couldn't give up, Peggy wouldn't have wanted him too. Peggy... the last conversation he had with her... He felt his eyes glisten. All gone. He would never see her dark curls, her searching eyes, or see that beautiful smile of hers. The last time he had seen her, they had kissed... He remembered how her cheeks had flushed, and how her voice had cracked...

"You gonna be okay?" the voice intervened his thoughts. Was he okay? All his friends, all the people he knew, dead? But the only thing he could think about was Peggy, and how she had promised to go dancing with him, right at 8, she would teach him how to dance...

"Yeah, I'm fine, I just had a date."

Well, thats it everyone. Its just a oneshot, so tell me if you liked it, thought it was ok, or hated it. Critique is welcome! Thank you for reading!


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